


How The Mighty Fall

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Chains, F/M, Mental Coercion, Not necessarily safe sane and consensual, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post Thor 1, Song Inspired, Subspace, dark!Natasha, dark!SHIELD, dubcon, fem!dom, minor stockholm syndrome, so much dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1238593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His ability to evade her was his curse, and the more he managed to slip through her fingers the more she wanted him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Mighty Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired [briefly] by Hellfire from The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and from reading the latest chapter of Lick Your Wounds by EustaciaVye28 and White Whale by AdamantSteve, both of which are in-fucking-credible.  
> Seriously, go read them. Amazing works, both of them.   
> Hope you enjoy, and PLEASE read the tags before attempting to read this fic.   
> A million and one thanks to Jessy for putting up with me throughout this and ensuring I kept it dub-con rather than letting it drift into non-con territory. And for putting up with me as a whole.

His ability to evade her was his curse, and the more he managed to slip through her fingers the more she wanted him.  

They called her obsessed, and perhaps she was, though dedicated and determined had a far nicer ring to it and no one was stupid enough to say anything different to her face.  

She’d been watching him for over a month, though it had taken some time for her to convince Fury to let her go after him.  He could be dangerous, after all.  Sorcerer, Asgardian, Jotun--whatever it was Thor had told them about the dark-haired trickster.  Shouldn’t someone have taken him down?  

Not without just cause, not without some reason to bring him on the team, Fury had insisted, no matter how Natasha’s eyes had darkened when he’d told her to leave her prey alone, to focus on the missions he gave her.  So when the order finally came in, when he told her Loki’s exact address, when he’d be there, and that she’d have a team at her complete disposal to bring the bastard in her mouth had watered and she’d walked away with a gleam in her eye, hand already dialing Clint’s number to have him keep an eye on Loki.  She wasn’t going to risk anything.  

The safehouse had been his very last bastion of freedom, his last tie to Earth, and they’d infiltrated it almost too easily.  She was paranoid, by the time she finally got there, that he’d caught wind that they were onto him because it was far too simple, yet when she texted Clint to double check he assured her that the trickster was still, indeed, in his apartment.  

Just outside the door she paused, taking half a second to savor the moment, the thrill before she would get hold of him.  It was palpable, and her pulse quickened in her veins as she thought about finally having him beneath her.  

The door fell to the ground, the arrow from Clint sinking flawlessly into Loki’s arm so that, with his attention on the broken door, he had no time to guard himself against the tranquilizer already working into his system, having been tested several times on Thor and their other superhuman compatriots, so as she strode into the room with a wide, triumphant smirk slashing her lips upwards his eyes were rolling into the back of his head and he was falling.  

Too quick for her, if she was honest.  She’d loved the chase he’d kept up for her, and though she’d raged about hating being outwitted as she’d punished Rogers, her other pet, for Loki’s transgressions against her it had all been entirely worth it.  As she crossed closer, running a hand down the side of his face before ripping the arrow out of his extended arm, she demanded they bandage him, clean him up, and bring him to her quarters.  She had quite a few plans for this one, a low heat already starting between her legs as she considered his pale skin and how beautifully flushed it would be when she got done with him.  

 

Loki gasped as he came to, his eyes blinking rapidly as he looked around the room, turning his head to stare around the room, trying to decipher what sort of place he’d been taken to, the blank grey walls revealing nothing.  The bed beneath him was soft enough against his entirely bared skin, he supposed, though he’d been bound on his back with his arms wrapped underneath him and his legs bound with just enough space that he could--.

Trying not to think about what the hell was going to happen if he didn’t get away he managed to roll himself over with a soft grunt, the cuffs cutting into his skin as he tugged painfully at them, but he was no closer to being able to escape.  He swore, trying to call on his magic, but finding it tamped down by the bindings around him.  Choking back a shout of anger and disbelief, he instead breathed in slowly through his nose, closing his eyes and trying to recall how the hell had he gotten here.  The door--the arrow that had once been in his arm.  He turned his head from its place in the bedspread to look at the skin that had once sported a purple-fletched arrow in it, finding it bandaged instead.  Knocked out and anesthetized, what for?  He swallowed hard, his mind providing abundant examples of just how he might have been of use.  

He bit his tongue until it bled, the copper taste in his mouth snapping him back to his senses.  Escape.  He had to escape, and once more he set to testing the bindings that had taken his powers from him, trying to recall who the hell would’ve done this as he pulled and fought against the heavy wrought manacles.  

Red hair, bright blue eyes--he’d caught sight of her in passing, but not for long, sure that he’d never seen her before.  Mortal, or so he thought.  She’d been gloating, likely at having caught a god, when she’d burst through, and his attention on her had been the fatal stroke that had landed him where he was.  He was getting sloppy.  

It had to be SHIELD that she worked for, he supposed, catching the quickest sight of an eagle emblem as he threw his head to either side, attempting to find an escape route or something within range that he could get to to free himself, when the deadbolt slid open with a harsh click, and high heeled boots tapped a staccato rhythm on the hard floor that wasn’t unlike the quick pounding in his chest.  

There she was, hair like fire, eyes hard as gunmetal and so bright a blue it nearly hurt to look at her for too long.  He set his teeth into a grimace as he watched her close and lock the door behind her once more.  

“Undo these shackles around me and I might let you live,” he growled, though the prone position he was in, head nearly planted into the black comforter beneath him, legs slightly twisted and arms immovable from their position, didn’t bode well for his threats.  “Stupid mortal--.”

“Oh hush, Loki.”  Her voice was smoky, almost intoxicating he hated to admit and couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he’d been laced with an aphrodisiac within that damn tranquilizer.  No, no he could still appreciate a lovely woman, no matter how badly he wanted to rip her skin from her body and feast on her screams of pain for putting him in such a degrading position.  What right did she have to treat him like this?  He, who’d evaded SHIELD when his brother had failed, he who had done nothing to irritate them except to exist, banished to this realm for nearly inciting a war between his true people and what he’d thought was his home.  He’d been good, kept to himself, and yet they’d still found him.  

It set his teeth on edge and his blood boiling to think of it.  

For the time he followed her orders, watching as she removed the heeled boots, the jacket that she’d wrapped tight around herself to keep the autumnal wind out, tried not to take notice of the inches of creamy skin that she bared to him as she slipped the form fitting blouse off of her upper torso, showing off scars that littered her torso.  His eyes narrowed.  

“What do you intend to do with me?” He demanded though he kept his voice quiet.  He was no supplicant, at least not--no.  Never to her.  “I’ll not work for you, no matter how you attempt to persuade me--.”

“Loki, I told you to keep your mouth shut.”  She snapped the last word, her head snapping to the side with the last syllable, his skin erupting into gooseflesh at the intensity of her stare, as though she were looking through him.  Impossible.  No one had ever, or even could, do that to him.  

He didn’t respond.  She smirked, full lips red and wet as her pink tongue darted out between them to run over the swollen flesh.  

He couldn’t help but wonder what she tasted like, feeling his cock stir as he finally allowed his eyes to cascade further down to her ample breasts, showcased and nearly spilling over the black lace bra.  He turned his head away as he felt himself hardening against his will.  Fuck.  

He heard her pad closer, felt her fingers ghost up his back and he nearly arched into the touch as she brought her nails down his back, scratching his skin just gently enough to feel fantastic.  

“God, you’re so good for me already, aren’t you?”  She purred, her voice soft and yet edged with want.  He made her like that.  He tried not to take pride in that.  “I thought I might ride you at first, but with an ass like this?”  She brought down her other hand sharply on his backside, and he barely caught the yelp before it left his lips.  “Guess I’ll start you off like this and work my way from there.”  

He hated that his cheeks flushed as he turned his head to glower at her.  “Fuck you,” he spat.  “Last chance, wench,” he growled.  “Release me now.  Allow me to walk out of here untouched and I will grant you your pathetic life.  Do anything more--.”

“I really don’t want to have to gag you, Loki,” she said, already thrusting three fingers of her right hand into his mouth as she took his jaw--bloody Hel she was strong--and gripped him tight to keep him from biting down.  “But I’ll do it if you don’t shut up.  Now, suck.  It’s all you’re getting, and I will not be gentle if you do not work with me.”  

He hated how his body reacted to the force, hated how she didn’t have to hold his jaw for long as he summoned as much saliva as he could to wet her fingers, soaking them as he laved his tongue over the calloused fingertips, the battle-worn lengths of her digits.  She pulled them free and grinned as she shifted and pressed one finger slowly into his ass.  He hissed through his teeth, clenching down, and it only earned him another hard slap.  

“You don’t want to do that, Loki,” she said, soft voice contrasting the stinging of his flesh as he tried to force himself to loosen up.  It was easier than it should have been, he had to admit, burying his head into the comforter at the alien intrusion.  She cooed at how good he was, her free hand rubbing his back, easing the tension out of the lower muscles as she pressed her first finger inside of him, making him yelp in surprise when the pad of her finger brushed against his prostate with no difficulty.  He was fully hard now, the silk of the comforter providing just the right sort of friction against his erection as Natasha worked a second, then her third finger into his ass, eliciting a sob from him when she stroked and pressed hard against the bundle of nerves, fraying his conscious until he wasn’t sure why the hell he’d said no to this in the first place.  

Why had he?  

She pulled out far too quickly, bringing him nearer to the brink than he liked to admit, and the sobbed, broken “No” that left his lips made him ashamed to call himself a god.  

He didn’t have long to wait before a lubed up, blunt, plastic tip was worked into his now loosened hole, gradually thickening as Natasha pushed it slowly into him until he felt the base of the plug pressing against his cheeks, her fingers still caressing him, her words still promising him that he was doing so well, that he needed this.  

“I’m going to take care of you, Loki.  I’m going to give you what you need,” she promised as she pressed down onto the base of the plug and the silicon began to vibrate inside him.  The comforter couldn’t swallow his entire moan, the noise far too loud as his hips bucked, the head of the plug hitting his prostate, but she pulled his hips back, restraining them so he couldn’t do it again.  

“Ah-ah.  That’s too easy,” she said with a soft, indulgent laugh that he hated her for.  He hated her for all of it, for getting him hard, for weakening him.  

For making him enjoy it as she turned him over with ease, blinking rapidly at the dimmed light and the sight of her bright hair and calculating gaze as it fell on him once more.  She’d shucked her pants off some time ago, and without the comforter restricting his senses he could smell her arousal as she pressed his legs together, the plug jostling around within him, and climbed atop.  She waited just above him, smirking, fingers toying with Loki’s nipples, pulling them hard enough to make him whimper and arch his back, which only made the plug press against his prostate once more, the pressure Valhalla and the deepest pits of Hel wrapped in the same demonic pulse that quickened his heart and glazed his eyes at the same time.  

“I hate you,” he said, but there was no fire beneath his words as she just grinned and shifted her weight so that she could bring her lips down around his leaking cock, swirling her tongue around the base before swallowing him whole quickly enough to make him shout.  She took her time, allowing her throat to adjust to his girth and length as she worked the base with her hands and his balls with the other, the pleasure building until it nearly blinded him and he was about to--.

She pulled off just as he shouted, about to come if she hadn’t pulled away seconds before.  

“Oh Loki.  You haven’t been paying attention if you think it’s going to be that easy,” she grinned, wiping the drool from her chin and surging forward to kiss him.  No, not kiss him.  She devoured him whole, sucking his soul out through his mouth as she traced his lips with her tongue and delved deeper into his being than anyone had ever been, fingers fisting in his hair as she tugged at the black locks, the pain and pleasure of her body blurred until he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t found his release yet, reduced to nothing more than nerve endings and a constant need for _yesyesyesmoremoremore_ that seemed neverending.  

Did he want it to?  

It became even more difficult to remember that he hated her when she slid atop him, sheathing him in one simple motion as she gave a quiet sigh of contentment that burned in his gut.  No.  He wanted her to scream, wanted her to writhe as he was doing beneath her.  He jerked his hips upwards to try and throw her off, unsettle her, but she simply rode it out, far more adept at shifting with him than he would’ve imagined.  Her pace was slow and painfully so, her touch reminiscent of that of a lover’s as she caressed the soft hollows of his throat, the space between his pecs and the smooth planes of his abdomen.  Where her fingers went her lips followed, whispering how she’d wanted him for so long, had pursued him as long as she’d dared, how despite him staying one step ahead of her she’d found a way to finally, finally catch up.  

She came twice before she even considered allowing him the same, always stopping him just seconds away from the climax until he was certain he would die of exhaustion before he got it, every muscle in his body sore and begging for release.  

It wasn’t enough for her.  She mouthed her way up his jawline, nipping at his chin before murmuring against his lips: “Beg for me, Loki.”

“Never,” he snarled, but it held no fire.  The plug in his ass and her hot, wet heat around him had sapped what strength he’d had to fight back, had taken him entirely off guard and as she rode him a little harder, the speed increasing as she sought to torment him further, he felt what little resolve he’d held onto wane.  

And still she just laughed above him.  

“Loki.  Just beg and I’ll let you come.  Tell me you’re mine.  Swear it,” she moaned in his ear, nibbling on the lobe, teeth and tongue and sucking just enough to make him whimper.  

“No.”  The word was broken.

“Do it.   Beg me and I’ll be so good to you, Loki.  You want that, don’t you?  Don’t you want to make me happy?”

He bared his teeth but no words came out.  One of her hands caressed the side of his face and he, subconsciously, leaned into it.  Whined and keened.  

“Beg me.”  

She kept him there for at least ten more minutes before he broke, tears sliding from his eyes as he begged until his throat went raw and he couldn’t see straight for need of a release.  He felt hollow and heaven-bound at the same time as she finally moaned and gave one last swivel of her hips, allowing him to spill into her with a choked sob, hips bucking upwards into hers and she just took, and took, and took, wringing him out until he wasn’t sure there would be anything left of him.  

She slid off of him after he’d gone boneless beneath her, and, though she turned off the plug she left it in place.  “For later,” she promised with a wink and a grin, and though any other time he’d have been thrilled to see her walking a little bow-legged after she’d gotten done with him he hardly had the energy to blink let alone compute what it meant.  

She brought him water and between cool sips she wiped him down with a soft rag, stroking his hair as he continued to shake beneath her.  By the time she removed the cuffs around his wrists, rubbing the chafed skin, and repeated the process with those around his ankles, he curled around her when she put her arms around him.

“You’re mine, Loki.  All mine.”  She said, twining her fingers in his hair and kissing his forehead.  

Damn her for telling the truth.  

 

 


End file.
